highly new, slightly improved open post

[appliances]

assorted morons

☆ @ the muselist

optional prompts/ideas

☆ caught in the rain meme ☆ little steps meme ☆ affectionate physical contact meme ☆ picture prompt also acceptable but link them so it's tidy ☆ AU ideas: soulmates AU, reincarnation AU, Bad End AU, canon divergent/roleswap AU, dorky college AU, crossover AU, super indulgent high fantasy AU ☆ melodrama is ultimate tier ★ SHIPPING AND FUCC: ☆ non-fluffy relationship types I'm down for: codependent, master/servant power imbalance type ships, "we're bad for each other but worse for anyone else," other things I am failing to think of tbh ☆ things I am not into: noncon (includes "dubcon"), incest, tsundere shit if your tsundere is just verbally abusive, gratuitous torture porn, you'll probably have to ask me about harder kinks and they will vary by character ☆ I don't have a kink list so pitch me an idea if u thirsty ☆ if you would prefer a locked post I can also make that happen

Comments

the one where i challenge ur rp skills enormously by setting this on a beach

[parricida]

[Sometimes, Garak really despairs at the state of things. At the state of himself-- and no, not in the obvious way. Not in the way where he thinks about how he's an exile from his beloved homeworld; how his career, his skills, his future, his everything, has been irrevocably and almost certainly irreversibly derailed . . . that's worthy of despair, but not right now.

No, this is smaller. This is looking at his considerable skillset and wondering at the fact that nowadays, he's delighted when he gets to use it on the most obvious of targets. Gone are the days of tricking high-ranking ambassadors and scientists; now, Garak thrills at the thought of tricking a simple Federation doctor.

(There is nothing simple about Bashir. There is nothing stupid about his doctor. But Garak can be forgiven for a bit of melodrama, can he not?)

The thing is, he wants to go to an island getaway with his doctor. A basic desire, isn't it? Cardassian owned, a private island that's really just as innocuous as it sounds. It's a date, or at least a very long attempt at seduction, and he's allowed that. He's allowed a bit of indulgence, isn't he?

And yet just saying so directly will not get him what he wants. Bashir will balk and stammer and hesitate, and he'll cite all sorts of silly reasons for why he can't possibly take a break from the station, as though he is the sole doctor on that godforsaken place. No, the direct route is always foolish, unless of course one seeks out a direct way to failure.

Instead: he drops hints. He coyly insinuates that perhaps there's a bit of spywork to be done on such an island. That perhaps, by playing at tourism, they might well discover some decades old plot that would serve to humiliate Dukat (Dukat being the most obvious target, and also the one Garak has the most information on. There's always room to humiliate Dukat, it's just a matter of choosing when). He plays keep-away, and pretends to try and hide his journey, and even resorts to snapping when Bashir eagerly pursues--

And now here they are, on this island. Verging just the wrong side of hot for humans, but absolutely perfect to his mind. And why shouldn't it be? They spend all their lunches with Garak trying to ignore his freezing extremities, his eyes aching for the brightness of the station, ignoring his own discomfort as Bashir had chattered endlessly about . . . oh, whatever topic intrigued him this week. Literature, if he was lucky. A new ladyfriend if he wasn't.]

Isn't it lovely, doctor?

[Oh, it is. It really is. Sand almost white from the sun's searing rays, the water a crystal clear that he sighs to see. Oh, yes. This is exactly what he needed, and he includes Bashir in that. Garak glances over at him, his gaze more openly appreciative than it is on the station. He's as much a part of this as anything.]

A concession to our supposed vacation: I shall not bore you with the history of this place. Though perhaps I presume too much? I cannot imagine you on vacation; perhaps you are the type to indulge in history when you've time off.

[He inhales sharply and exhales gustily, savoring the sting of the sea breeze. There's a small house behind them where they'll stay for a time, and it's to that he refers as he adds:]

If you're too hot, I've made you some new garments to combat the heat. I think you'll find them quite suitable.

[He's genuinely proud of them. How far he's fallen.]

finally, i am awake enough for the beach rp challenge

[classrank]

[The thing is. The thing is, about this island retreat - because of course that's what it is, obvious upon first setting food upon the sand, of course - is that Bashir had to walk into the Captain's office and earnestly request to come here, a fact that is now going to haunt him for the rest of time. He's always felt rather good at seeing Garak's truth-within-the-lies, or whatever one might call it, but the longer they stand here on this beach the more Bashir feels like there are no embarrassing secrets of Gul Dukat waiting to be uncovered, after all.

Not ones that Garak couldn't have pulled out of a false panel in his quarters back on the station, anyway. The boyish excitement with which he leaned into squeezing the details out of Garak on the station has yet again betrayed him; like so many times before he'd simply pressed on, which was probably the first mistake. Then, at Garak's whispered insistence, not sharing too many of the details with anyone...

And so here they are: Garak's elaborate ruse (in hindsight) to hook Bashir into volunteering for this all on his own, and himself, squinting and tugging at his collar already in the Cardassian heat.

He would like, he thinks, to be more annoyed. Oh, the look he gives Garak is knowingly exasperated with his presumptions and his machinations and oh, god, remembering the look Sisko gave him when he mentioned Garak and a remote private island in the same sentence, oh no— but. But!

Well, he's already here. And who knows! Perhaps the grand secrets of Dukat's most embarrassing trip to the beach are here somewhere, after all.]

I think I have more than enough time for indulgences now, Garak, thanks to you.

[They were dropped here rather than allowed to idle around with a runabout, after all; there is nothing else to do but indulge until someone comes to pick them up.]

And I have to admit, seeing you outside the station, in your element... [Not the spy one, the other one. The lizard one. Bashir lets that comment hang there for a moment while he looks at Garak, then chuckles and shakes his head.] Well, I hope I'm not about to be bored by some circular Cardassian rambling.

[As always, the books suck, but in a flirty way. He's this close to dramatically collapsing with heat stroke, however, still tugging at his collar before nodding back towards the house. Whatever Garak has made is sure to be better than the full Federation uniform in this heat, so please, show him his custom-tailored beachwear he didn't ask for but will put on anyway.]